


behind sealed lips

by murakamism



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ben Solo Deals With Catholic-Slash-Jedi Guilt, F/M, Fluff, Jedi Ben Solo, Porn With Plot, Secret Relationship, Senator Rey, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:36:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murakamism/pseuds/murakamism
Summary: Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe this is going to be the scandal of the galaxy. But Ben Solo has never been good at being a proper Jedi, and Rey of Jakku has never been your average senator.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rare case where I'm publishing a fic without having written the chapters in advance, so please bear with me! The smut may be bad, and the first chapter may be awkward, but there is a point to it all, I promise.

The door hisses shut behind them, leaving them in pitch blackness. Footsteps ring out from the other side of the door, echoing through the polished halls. Ben swallows nervously, hyperaware of the voices outside.

They were mistaken. They crowd against each other in this cramped closet. Ben has to stoop down just to avoid hitting his head, even when his back is pressed tightly against a series of shelves. One of the edges digs painfully into his side, but he bites his lip and swallows down the cry. Rey won’t stop _moving_ , won’t stop fidgeting. He grabs her and covers her mouth with a hand.

Rey stiffens up. They’re already pressed tightly together; there isn’t space to do otherwise. Ben’s other hand is steady on her wrist, gripping her in warning. She clenches her fist but doesn’t pull away like he expects.

Only a tiny fraction of light slivers in through the gap on the vent atop the door. It coats Rey’s eyes in a dangerous light. She turns her head to look back at him, to glare and offer a muffled complaint. Her breath is hot against his palm, and he tries not to shudder, tries not to freeze when her backside rubs against his thigh.

The voices outside grow louder. Rey grumbles, her voice growing more agitated. He hushes her violently, tightening his hand on her mouth and pulling her even closer against his body. Her back crashes against his front, and for a moment she finally freezes—falling still and limp in his arms as he glares at the door, waiting for the footsteps to pass.

Eventually, the voices and footsteps trail off into the distance. Ben shuts his eyes and reaches out with the Force.

They’re alone.

He sighs and then opens his eyes again. Rey elbows him in the ribs.

“Ow!” he exclaims, hissing. He drops the hand from her mouth. Her neck is craned to glare at him. “What was that for?”

“I couldn’t breathe,” she explains, eyes still narrowed. “You need to learn some delicacy, Ben Solo.”

“Delicacy?” he scoffs, still whispering. “Perhaps for a more graceful woman. We wouldn’t have had to resort to this if you would just listen to me, Senator—“

“Pulling me into a closet,” Rey breathes. She presses against him even harder until her back lies flat against his torso. Ben realizes that he still has his other arm wrapped around her, that he’s holding her stomach in place. “That’s not very Jedi-like of you.”

He pulls away his arm. At the last moment, Rey grips his wrist with strong fingers, keeping him in place. He swallows visibly, the noise heavy in his ears. They’re both silent—their breaths fill the air between them.

Rey must feel it. She must feel the growing stiffness between his legs. When Ben adjusts himself, slides his hips away to avoid hers, she takes that moment to grind her backside against him. He has to bite down a groan.

Rey grins up at him with wicked satisfaction.

“Senator,” Ben says, his voice strangled. “They’re gone. We should head back to the meeting room…”

Rey links her fingers with his. Her hands are tiny, slender. He marvels at the warmth of them as she continues to squirm against him, as her pelvis slides against his growing erection. He grips the shelf behind him for support.

“The meeting room isn’t safe,” Rey tells him. Her voice is annoyingly calm. “How are you sure that nobody will follow us again? The assembly’s over. It’s the perfect time to follow me to my quarters and plant an attack.”

Ben shuts his eyes tight. She’s never fair about things like this.

But he supposes it’s his fault too. His fault for being too weak.

His hips buck against hers.

Even with his eyes closed, he can feel Rey sliding around to face him. She takes his face in her hands, thumbs caressing his cheeks. Her fingers are warm against his skin, warm and comforting, tender. He opens his eyes and sees her smile, her soft gaze, still teasing.

“Ben,” she whispers. Her breaths hover by his jawline. “You’re frozen stiff.”

He looks down at her, frowning. Though it comes out more like a pout.

“Have you been sleeping?” she asks, tracing a curve below his eyes. Ben frowns even harder.

“Have _you?_ ” he counters.

“Barely, but it seems like you’ve been getting even less than that.”

Ben sighs. His shoulders melt when she slides her hands down onto them, pressing tenderly to soothe his muscles. The fabric of his robes rustles underneath her palms. She slides a leg between his thighs, and it’s pure weakness how he parts his legs to make way for her.

When she rubs him through his trousers, he can only exhale sharply.

“Nostalgic, huh?” Rey teases.

Ben wraps her in a tight embrace and then surges forward, smashing his mouth against hers. He’s sick of her teasing. There’s a moment of surprise—her eyes widen—before she hugs his shoulders tightly and then returns the kiss. It’s a bruising clash of lips and tongue, an almost painful pressure of mouth on mouth. Rey gasps when he nips at her jawline, his lips trailing butterfly kisses down the side of her neck.

He mouths at the exposed hollow of her collarbone. He sucks at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Rey’s head lolls backwards, exposing her throat, and he growls between each kiss. Rey’s body shudders in the makings of a laugh, so he grips her ass and replaces that cry with a surprised groan.

“I see someone’s excited,” she quips, but her voice is strangled. Ben grins at his effect on her—on her voice.

“This is what you get for tempting me,” he grumbles into her neck. One of his hands slides down the length of her dress, parting the slit at her thigh. Her leg burns hotly beneath his touch. He splays his hand, encompassing the entire surface of her skin. She retaliates by pressing their hips together and palming his erection.

He hisses.

“What do I get for tempting you, Master Solo?” she snickers.

“This,” he murmurs.

Ben moves his hand and rubs her through her underwear, trying not to grin wickedly as she muffles a groan. When he finally slips a finger inside of her, slow but easily, her hips buck against his hand. He leans down to capture her mouth in a kiss, muffling her gasps as he steadily pumps into her. He slides another arm around her back, allowing her to lean all of her weight onto him as she grinds against the palm of his hand.

Rey’s head falls and she groans into the fabric of his sleeve. She grips his back tightly, her nails sharp against his flesh. Ben curls his fingers and she lets out a mewl; his dick twitches in response.

“Shhh,” Ben breathes. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. When Rey thrusts forward, her hipbone brushes against his erection. He tries not to think about how hard he is; all he focuses on is her: her hands, her face pressed into his chest, her whimpers, her wetness.

“Shhh, Rey,” he murmurs, his own voice tight. Her knees almost buck beneath her weight when he strokes her clit. “Shhh, they’ll hear you.”

Maybe it’s the way his breath hovers by her ear. Maybe it’s the way his lip brushes her jawline. Maybe it’s his words: reminding her of the threat of their discovery. Rey tightens up on his fingers and then freezes, the litany of words stumbling out of her lips now muffled by the fabric of Ben’s robes.

Her thighs tremble when she comes. Ben holds her tightly against his body, keeping her upright, making sure she doesn’t fall. Rey melts in his arms, sighing softly as he slips his fingers out of her. A shiver runs down her spine, and Ben doesn’t miss the way she bites her lip.

He looks down at her. Rey’s eyes are half-glazed over when she meets his gaze. Still, they’re bright even in the limited lighting, and he can pick up the edges of her lazy smile. Rey’s cheeks are flushed and her chest is heaving. Her lips are red and kiss-bitten, probably just as swollen as his. They stand there for a moment, just breathing.

He presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Kriff,” she murmurs. “I wish we chose a bigger storage closet.”

Ben chuckles in the darkness.

“I didn’t bring you in here for _this_ , you know.”

“I know.” She smiles shyly. And then a wicked gleam passes through her eyes. She steps backwards and carefully crouches down, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes even as she gets down on her knees.

Ben inhales sharply.

“But since we’re in here, I might as well return the favor,” she says, and tugs at the waistband of his trousers.

 

 

_Three Standard Months Ago_

The night is young, the wine is free-flowing, and Ben Solo is tired of it all. He slips out of the crowd, knowing that he’s no longer needed for any _diplomatic negotiations_. As soon as he steps out into the floating garden, he breathes a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing at the peace and quiet.

Galactic City is brightly lit even at night. In the distance, he can hear speeders zipping past. But the garden is still, serene, and he walks through the paths, his footsteps muffled by the soft ground. Exotic plants hover in their pots, and Ben takes absentminded steps, uncaring of where he goes.

Eventually, he finds himself in the middle of a maze. Ben stops, taking in a deep breath. A pleasant scent filters into his nose: something vaguely floral, vaguely tropical, the wisps of the scent pulling him by his nostrils.

There, nestled inside of a tiny pot, is a foreign flower that blooms wildly. Its petals are open, enticing, and as Ben approaches, he realizes it’s the source of the scent. It glows like a nebula of stars; the purple shade is vibrant even under the night sky. One of its petals folds smoothly, almost like a tendril curling into itself, and Ben reaches out to touch it.

“Don’t,” a woman calls out. “That one bites.”

Ben’s hand hovers over the tendrils. He turns his head and sees a young woman sitting on a giant tree root nearby. She’s covered by the shade, but her eyes glint with the lamps that light up the path.

Ben pulls his hand away.

“Really?” he asks, because he’s mesmerized by her shy little smile. The woman nods. He isn’t even ashamed to be caught ignorant.

“You’re not the first guest to be drawn here,” she replies. “If you don’t believe me, feel free to test it out.”

“I believe you. But what are _you_ doing here?” he asks. Her hair is drawn up in a simple bun on the top of her head. A small white flower has been tucked into her ear, nestled between her tresses. Her long white dress flows freely, still elegant as the fabric pools over the ground. Whatever soft curves she has are covered up by the pleats. She must be some nobleman’s daughter, he thinks. Some girl that has left the party to hide.

Not unlike him.

“Are you here to guard against flower attacks?” he adds.

The girl snorts.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am,” she replies. “Your resident garden bodyguard.”

“Thank you for your service, Commander,” he jokes dryly. “If it weren’t for you, I would have lost a limb to this ferocious petal beast.”

The girl laughs. She throws her head back and shuts her eyes tight for a single moment. Ben stands still, watching her as the moonlight falls upon the planes of her face. She’s beautiful, he thinks reverently. It’s a fact, a realization—this is the same feeling he gets when he sees a particularly lovely sculpture or a bouquet of roses, is it not?

Admiration, yes.

He squashes down any other feelings violently back inside of him.

The girl grins at him, her teeth sparkling even in the darkness. She leans her elbows on her knees and says, “That ferocious petal beast has a name, by the way. _Acuartia Kiken._ Also known as the _sweetflower_. It’s harvested and used to make perfumes, but only professionals can do it without losing any fingers.”

Ben hums. “That’s interesting. You know a lot about flowers.”

“I like them,” she explains. “I can’t help it.”

Ben takes a single step closer, now intrigued.

“Well then.” He points to the blue plant next to the sweetflower. “What’s this one, Miss Florist?”

She grins at him cheekily. “That’s called a _portrabillia_. It only blooms at night. But if you ask any more, I’m going to have to charge. Information isn’t free.”

Ben digs out a random cookie he’d nicked from the party. It’s still wrapped in a white napkin, and he presents it to her jokingly.

“Do you accept sweets as payment?”

Strangely enough, her eyes light up. The girl stands up and approaches him, not even bothering to brush off the leaves that had fallen on her dress. When she grows near, Ben can’t help but drink her in as her entire face is illuminated and revealed to him.

“Yes, absolutely,” she declares. “Ask away.”

Ben chuckles and hands her the cookie. When the girl takes it, he notices a small silver bracelet circling her wrist. A rosebud charm is balanced on its surface. She takes a bite and then groans. Her eyes crinkle at the edges as her cheeks bulge out in a smile. Ben shoves his hands into his pockets because he doesn’t know what else to do, because her hands are too near his.

“So tell me,” he says. “Are you really a florist?”

The girl snorts. She shoves the rest of the cookie into her mouth and chews thoughtfully, uncaring of the fact that her mouth is still full as she speaks.

“No,” she dabs at her mouth with the napkin. “But I come from a desert planet, and it’s rare for anything to grow there. Flowers are precious things; I’ve always had a soft spot for them.”

“Oh.” A single crumb darkens the edge of her mouth. Ben looks away, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “What planet is that?”

“Jakku,” she answers simply. And then she looks up at him, scrutinizing him intently. “Where are _you_ from, Oh-Bearer-Of-Sweets?”

“Chandrila,” Ben answers honestly.

Loud cheers erupt from the party. Ben and the girl both whip their heads towards the source of the noise. An entire barrage of fireworks explodes in the sky: reds, blues, greens, and purples dancing around to form various shapes and creatures in the air. Ben glances down for a moment to find that the girl is staring at the sky with rapt attention, the lights reflected in her eyes.

The fireworks continue to explode behind them, but Ben finds that he can’t be bothered to take his eyes away from her.

He’s about to speak up, about to ask her name, or ask about another flower, _anything,_ when his comm rings in his pocket. Ben fishes it out and sighs.

“Where _are_ you?” Calum, his partner on this mission, hisses out. “Skywalker wants us to gather on the deck now.”

When Ben looks back down, he sees the girl is staring at him with a mildly curious expression.

“I’m...” he trails off.

“Hurry up, Solo.”

The comm shuts off. Ben winces and then looks at the girl. They stare at each other for a moment, no words exchanged, as the rest of the fireworks show goes off behind them.

“It was nice meeting you,” he says. “But I have to go.”

She shrugs and smiles, this one smaller.

“Nice meeting you,” she parrots. “Thanks for the cookie.”

His comm rings again. Ben nods.

“Thank you for the flower lessons.”

He turns away and then jogs back up the path. Halfway towards the party, he skids to a stop and turns around.

“Wait!” he yells. “My name is Ben! What’s yours?”

But maybe the girl hasn’t heard him, or maybe the girl is gone. When he looks back, nobody else is there, and nobody else replies.

 

 

Ben is _not_ happy the next time he’s called back into Coruscant.

He’s spent the past month carrying out missions on Geonosis. He was right in the middle of dismantling a crew of bounty hunters when he was informed that the mission had been haphazardly handed over to a new team of Jedi. Now, he grumbles as he stalks through the halls of the Senate building, his robes swooping over the ground.

The Roonan at his side struggles to keep up with his wide strides. Luke walks on steadily, matching Ben’s pace.

“This way, Master Solo, Master Skywalker,” the Roonan says. They enter a doorway and emerge into a large lounging area, complete with a giant plush couch that circles the circumference of the room. A droid immediately approaches him with a tray of drinks, but Ben holds up a hand in denial.

“I will inform Senator Niima of your arrival,” the Roonan says with a bow. He then darts out of the room.

Luke takes a careful seat on the couch. Ben drops on the seat across him, sighing loudly as he sinks through the soft cushioning.

“I still don’t understand why you asked _me_ out of all people, Uncle,” Ben grumbles. “I was in the middle of a mission.”

Luke waves him away and picks up a tall flute from the droid’s tray. He sniffs the drink before tasting it.

“The mission was practically over, Ben. You were due for a re-assignment anyway.”

Ben scowls. “I don’t think playing babysitter is a suitable assignment. I could be on Ryloth or helping out the scope team on Endor—“

“Ben,” Luke admonishes. He wiggles his nose at the taste of the drink, choosing to set it back down on the droid’s tray. “This isn’t babysitting. You’ll be protecting the life of an important Senator. Besides, a Jedi does not complain when faced with responsibility.”

“If Senator Niima refused all your other candidates then why do you think he’d accept me? I’m not the most pleasant Jedi Knight out there.”

Luke smiles. “Ah, at least he’s self-aware.”

“I’m just saying, I would be more useful on another strike team than if I were to follow around some kid—“

“Oh, believe me,” a woman’s voice drawls out. “I’m not happy with this arrangement either.”

Ben whips his head to the side. The Roonan is back, this time with a slender woman at his side. She stands elegantly, her back ramrod straight and her hands folded in front of her. She’s dressed in heavy robes suited to the Senate Chamber. Her face is pinched in disdain, those lips pulled down into a scowl.

Only, she looks familiar. Ben meets her eyes and stares at her, trying to figure out who she is. When she glances at him, her eyes widen infinitesimally.

Luke stands and approaches the girl. He reaches out a hand for her to shake.

“Senator Niima,” he greets, bowing his head lightly. “Forgive me for Ben’s mood. He just got back from a mission on Geonosis. I promise you, he’s the best of the best. He’ll protect you with his life, even if he has to grumble the entire time.”

Luke’s smiling wickedly. Ben swallows, feeling his cheeks flush with heat.

When Senator Niima looks at him again, she tilts her head to the side. She stares at him, lips pursing thoughtfully.

“Thank you for taking the time to come here, Master Skywalker,” she replies, this time offering a polite smile. “But I told everyone—the Senate _and_ the Jedi Council—that I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“But Ben here has been assigned to you anyway,” Luke gestures towards his nephew. Ben finally stands, his long limbs hanging awkwardly at his sides. “Your safety is our utmost concern, Senator.”

Senator Niima huffs.

“You don’t know when the terrorists will strike again,” the Roonan adds. He nods sympathetically. “It’s better to be safe than sorry. We worry about you. We really do.”

The girl frowns.

“Just until we’re sure the threat is gone,” the Roonan continues.

Senator Niima tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. When she lifts her hand, her sleeve falls to reveal a thin bracelet circling her wrist. It’s simple and plain, not made of any precious metals, but Ben notices the flower bud charm embedded on the surface.

“Thank you for your concern,” she responds thinly. “But you’re unneeded. I have a meeting to attend in half an hour.”

Before anyone else can speak, the woman strides out of the room. The Roonan lets out a strangled noise, reaching out to grab her. But she disappears outside, her coattails swishing behind her. Ben leaps up on instinct and rushes outside, following her down the hallway.

She walks fast despite her long robes. Ben chases her down the long corridor. She hears his footsteps and speeds up even faster.

He eventually catches up to her.

“Senator Niima!” he calls out. She rounds a corner, ignoring him.

“Senator Niima!”

Ben huffs and then runs forward, dashing even faster with a burst from the Force. He leaps forward and reaches out before she can disappear around another corner. Ben grabs her wrist, lifting it up and tugging her gently towards him. She stops in her tracks, mouth dropping open as she’s about to yell out a retort.

Her sleeve falls. Her wrist is warm in Ben’s palm—warm and soft, small. He swallows thickly and then glances down at her bracelet.

Senator Niima pulls her arm away roughly. Ben releases her, swallowing down a gasp as his fingers brush against her skin. The contact lasts only a millisecond, and yet it burns.

“Miss Florist?” he croaks out.

She stares up at him with parted lips. Ben stands still as she turns to face him fully. Her eyes are wide underneath the blinding lamplight of the Senate building.

He would recognize those eyes anywhere. The memory of the garden comes back to him, flooding his senses. The tender scent of the sweetflower, the booming noise of the fireworks, the smile on her face—

“Sweetflower victim,” she murmurs. Ben drops his hand to the side.

“I...” Ben trails off. She doesn’t try to run away anymore. “I didn’t know you were a Senator.”

She huffs.

“You didn’t even know Senator Niima was a woman.”

He colors. “Well, I assumed—with the name...”

She waves him off. “Right, so many people just assume I’m a man. But I didn’t know you were a _Jedi_! You weren’t in your robes!”

Ben blinks, caught off-guard. Her cheeks are tinged pink now, but maybe that’s just the light.

“You know not all Jedi dress like Luke, right?” Ben replies.

She wrinkles her nose. “Well, you...”

“I what?”

She pauses, chewing on her bottom lip carefully as she inspects his face. Ben’s shoulders stiffen up on instinct. He freezes, uncomfortable with the intensity of her gaze.

“You seemed too broody for a Jedi.”

Ben blinks, unsure of how to reply. Senator Niima speaks matter-of-factly, head tilting to the side as she confesses her opinion. Should he be offended? Should he be taken aback?

He laughs.

“Was I?”

“You still are,” she replies carefully, a smile finally slipping onto her lips.

“Please don’t listen to anything my uncle says about me.”

“Only if you can convince him that I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Ben sighs. He shrugs one shoulder.

“You can send me away, but they’ll still find you another replacement. For as long as you require one, then it’s our duty to protect you.”

Rey narrows her eyes.

“And if I accept _you_ , on the basis that we have our own private agreement to leave each other alone?”

Ben stares back, unaffected. “It doesn’t work that way, Senator.”

“Well then, Master Solo,” she steps back and raises her chin. The motion makes her look more dignified, but her voice is almost bursting with the threat of a giggle. “In the absence of any other suitable options, I accept your offer to... _protect_ me. Lesser evils and all that.”

“Lesser evils?” Ben parrots flatly, raising a brow.

“Yes,” she grins at him sweetly. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an urgent meeting to attend to. We can discuss this later.”

She turns around and walks down the rest of the stretch of the corridor. Ben watches as she leaves, aware of his dismissal.

When she finally disappears into a doorway, he turns back to where he came from and sighs. He raises his arms over his head and stretches out his tired muscles in the empty hallway.

He would still rather be on Ryloth, but he supposes this assignment can be... bearable.


	2. Chapter 2

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Rey says. It’s hard to focus on anything else when she’s sitting right on top of him, when her fingers trail down his bare chest. Ben snaps out of his reverie and looks up to meet her small smile. Her hair falls like a curtain over her face.

“You,” he replies honestly—even if he tries to be teasing. He bows his head to plant a kiss on her fingers. She snorts, nails gently dragging across the surface of his skin.

“In that case, why are you so distracted?” she counters. She runs a hand through his hair and Ben melts into the touch.

“Sorry.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t be.”

“I am,” he murmurs. Ben leans forward and nuzzles into her chest. He leaves soft kisses on her bare breasts between every word. “You deserve my full attention.”

Rey laughs, feeling ticklish with the sensation.

“Okay, okay,” she grins. “Apology accepted.”

The sunlight filters in from a gap in the curtains. Galactic City slowly begins to wake, but the air between them is tender, still grasping at the wisps of sleep. They’ve had a late night; they should be tired, but instead Rey seems content to continue onwards.

She grasps him firmly in her hand. Ben stiffens up, biting back a groan. He knows the walls here are thick and that no one will hear them, but muffling his own noises is done out of habit now. He shuts his eyes tight when she sinks onto him slowly, achingly, with no noise but that of the smallest sigh.

He wraps his arms around her as she rocks into him, impatient as always. Ben leans forward to press a kiss to her shoulder, her collarbone, her chest, as she bounces on his lap, the bedsprings of the mattress creaking beneath them.

There are no words exchanged, not even when he meets her thrusts with desperate force. She doesn’t say anything except his name, even when she throws her head back to reveal the column of her throat. Ben gives into temptation and presses his face into the curve of her neck, grabbing her ass with both hands to get her even closer.

Her fingernails are sharp against the muscles of his shoulders. Her breaths are hitched in the air between them. The pleasure builds up in his belly as he lazily allows her to do whatever she wishes, to move however she wants.

“Ben,” she murmurs. “ _Please.”_

He slides a hand in between them and strokes down, down, fingers drifting below her navel. When he presses against _that_ spot he looks up, watching the minute expressions on her face. Her lips fall open to reveal a row of white teeth. Her lashes are long on her cheeks. Her hair glows, orbited by morning sunlight.

He comes only seconds after she does. When Rey groans and leans against him, limbs tired and lifeless like jelly, he runs a hand through her hair and presses a kiss to her temple.

“Good morning,” she murmurs.

“Good morning,” he replies.

 _I love you,_ Ben thinks. _I love you and that’s dangerous._

He sets her down on the pillow. As soon as her head hits the cushion, she falls asleep, her body relaxing in slumber. Ben sits still and watches the way her back rises and falls with her breathing.

She deserves the rest.

He stands and seals the curtains tightly until the room is plunged into darkness. Ben pads into the other room, gathers up his clothes, and gets dressed. It’s only afterwards that he collapses onto the couch. He covers his eyes with an arm and lies there with his eyes shut, the only noise that of the old-fashioned clock ticking across the room.

When he falls asleep, he dreams of her again, and there is no guilt.

 

 

_Roughly Two Standard Months Earlier_

Rey storms out of the Senate Chamber, her gown trailing behind her like a sea of dark clouds. Ben leaps down from his spot on the veranda above and then follows her heels, footsteps quiet as he rushes after the fuming woman.

The meeting has just finished, and Ben dashes even faster so he won’t lose her to the new crowd. Rey darts in and out of the sea of people, her figure lost to the various lifeforms that bustle by the square. When Ben catches a glimpse of her, he only sees her hands clenched into fists at her sides and the telltale sign of her tight jaw.

At first he’d been content to lie back and watch her from a distance. But then she disappears around the corner and Ben sighs, forced to follow her into the gardens.

He isn’t surprised that she comes here after she’s been upset. He wasn’t inside the chamber with her (she’d reacted _violently_ at that suggestion), but he did hear bits and pieces from a live recording on a telepad. The results were terribly skewed enough to make even him wince.

Eventually, Rey stops in front of a giant tree. It’s a familiar sight—only this time she isn’t smiling.

Ben skids down to a halt. He stands several feet away, the path empty between them. Rey paces back and forth, her skirt swishing by her heels. It takes him a moment before he decides to approach. He decides to stay silent, watchful, and not say anything else.

Comforting her isn’t his job.

He doesn’t have to do anything, he reminds himself. He just has to make sure she’s safe.

Ben’s fingers twitch at his sides.

He just stands there, watching idly, waiting for her to finish her exercise.

“They’re all savages, the lot of them,” she hisses. She glares at the floor. If she paces any harder, she’ll stomp holes into the ground, he thinks. “How can the majority vote _against_ criminalizing unfair wages? I don’t understand!”

She throws her hands up into the air. Ben shrugs one shoulder.

“They’re businessmen,” he tells her flatly. “Some of the Senators have holdings in slavery. Or they’re supported by cartels like the Hutts. They can’t afford to offend their patrons.”

Rey whips her head towards him. Her teeth are bared in an angry snarl.

“The Senate has no place for self-centered lifeforms. There are _lives_ at stake here. Generations of children, men and women, who will _never_ know what it’s like to live a normal life—to be free. To actively fight against that _disgusts_ me.”

Ben doesn’t respond. He only watches as Rey breathes in deeply. She finally stops walking and instead leans against the tree trunk.

“The Senate,” Ben admits slowly. “Has always been a place for representatives to further their personal gains.”

Rey scowls. She crosses her arms over her chest.

“I know that,” she says. “And it disappoints me. It feels like no matter how hard some of us work, the others will just drag us down for their personal gain. Nobody wants _real_ progress.”

“Not everyone can be as noble as you, Senator,” Ben murmurs.

Rey scoffs. She takes a seat on a giant tree root, leaning forward on her elbows. Her nose is still wrinkled in displeasure.

“They don’t have to be noble,” she replies. “They just have to be less... _selfish._ They won’t lose anything from doing the right thing.”

“You’re still so idealistic for a Senator,” Ben says, amused. “I know this is your first term, but I imagined you’d be more hardened by now.”

“And you’re so bitter and cynical for a Jedi,” Rey bites back. She balances her chin on her palm as she stares at him. “How else are you going to bring peace to the galaxy if you just accept this, Master Solo?”

Ben shrugs.

“I never said I had all the answers,” he replies simply.

Rey rolls her eyes. She sighs, and Ben has to resist the urge to chuckle. It’s during times like this that he realizes she’s still so _young_ , so vibrant, so full of life. Had he been this idealistic at nineteen? No, surely, even back then he had been hardened. His missions all over the galaxy had squashed any illusionary notions about peace and justice and _righteousness._

Sometimes, he wonders if there’s a point to it all. If there will ever be an end.

These are the things that he can never voice out—at least not to Uncle Luke, and not to the Jedi Council.

But when he admits them to Rey, she takes them in stride, accepting his thoughts for what they are.

It’s comforting, in a way, to know that she won’t judge him for it. Not too harshly.

He wants to stride forward and sit next to her. But he feels like that would be wrong—perhaps even a breach of their hierarchy. Instead, Ben shifts from one foot to the other. Rey begins to grumble again.

“Ugh, and Senator Moofey, everything that comes out of his mouth is just pure bantha—“

Ben feels a ripple through the Force. The hairs on the back of his neck rise, and he sees a single, sharp point of light.

“Get down!” He barks, and leaps in her direction. He knocks Rey to the ground, shielding her with his body as blasterfire singes the tree trunk, aimed right where she had been sitting.

Once the blasterfire dies down, Ben raises his head. He deflects another blaster bolt with the Force, sending it right back to its source. A Weequay on a speeder gets hit and falls right off. His companion, though, turns right around after meeting Ben’s eyes.

Ben stands up and runs towards them. The fallen Weequay manages to grab onto the tail end of the speeder as his companion rushes off. Ben swears, leaping up with the Force as he tries to catch them.

The two pirates blast through a pedestrian crowd. Lifeforms scream left and right as they part to make way for the vehicle. Ben dodges a blaster shot and then ignites his lightsaber to deflect more blows.

The speeder curves around in a wide arc to better aim at him. Ben tugs away one of their blasters with the Force, causing the bolt to miss him by several feet. With another motion, he causes the speeder to topple, making both of them slip off of it.

He approaches to confront them. One Weequay comes at him with a knife. Ben steps away from the blow and knocks him backwards with the hilt of his saber.

“Who hired you?” he grits out. The Weequay only smirks and fires a shot right at him, revealing a concealed blaster.

Ben takes careful steps backwards as he deflects each blow. Eventually, he kicks upwards, sending the blaster flying away from the pirate’s hand. The Weequay growls and tries to grab his lightsaber, but Ben elbows him right in the nose. A loud crunch erupts upon contact.

While the Weequay reels back in pain, Ben turns around to find where the second pirate has gone. His eyes widen upon realizing that he’s disappeared out of sight.

_Where did he go?_

A woman screams.

“Master Solo, behind you!”

When Ben turns, he sees Rey catching up to the scene, her hair wild and flying behind her. She points to the distance, but he doesn’t care about that.

He catches the second Weequay carefully aiming right at her.

Ben snarls and throws his saber into the air. It spins wildly, buzzing as it slices through the wind. The Weequay glances to the side for a second before his eyes widen—

And then he falls to the ground, body sliced neatly in half.

Rey covers her mouth with her hands. The crowd runs off, almost stampeding as they try to escape from the corpse. Ben kicks backwards and intercepts the second pirate’s attack. He spins around and deflects the blaster bolt right into the Weequay’s chest, knocking him out for good.

He runs towards her, focused on nothing but her shining eyes. He grabs his lightsaber, now shut off, and then barely spares the corpse a glance as he comes to a stop in front of the Senator. Rey looks up at him, her hands dropping from her mouth.

He wonders if she had been afraid—if she was about to cry.

“You laserbrain!” she says instead. “He was right behind you!”

Oh, so those weren’t tears of fear.

Ben laughs.

“That’s what I should be telling you, Senator.”

“Ben!”

Ben whips his head towards the source of the noise: a familiar voice. The voice of his uncle.

Luke Skywalker stomps through the square, his brows furrowed. He shakes his head after glancing at the dismembered corpse before finally approaching Ben.

“Ben!” Luke hisses out. “You didn’t have to kill them. We could have _interrogated_ them—but there’s no more hope for that now.”

Luke points an angry finger into Ben’s chest. Ben bends backwards, mouth dropping open.

“You need to learn how to _think_ more clearly,” Luke interrupts. “Do _not_ let your anger get the better of you. Or else there will be _consequences._ ”

Ben swallows thickly.

“I protected her,” is all he can say.

Luke shakes his head and sighs.

“You didn’t have to kill to do it,” he says quietly. “You aren’t on the battlefield anymore, Ben. You aren’t on Geonosis. You’re on Coruscant. You mustn’t get _used_ to killing.”

Ben’s face darkens. “I’m not.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Luke warns. He turns to face Rey. Rey glances up at Ben with furrowed brows, the concern clear on her expression.

“Senator Niima...” Luke begins. “I apologize for my nephew’s recklessness.”

Ben can’t handle this anymore. He clips his lightsaber back onto his belt and storms off, gritting his teeth.

He hears Rey call after him, and then the noise of Luke shushing her and telling her to leave him alone. He doesn’t dare look back.

 

 

It must be a few hours later; he can’t tell. He’s sitting in his room when a knock sounds on his door. Ben looks up.

“Master Solo?” Rey calls out through the other side. “Can I talk to you?”

Ben gets off his bed and then approaches the doorway. He doesn’t hesitate before allowing her inside. As soon as the door slides open, their eyes meet, and she offers him a small smile. Her hair is still in disarray from this afternoon’s attack. She’s wearing the same dress, but this time without the heavy vests.

For a moment, Ben feels a surge of guilt for leaving her after she had been almost _assassinated._ Of course she was with his uncle, but still. He’s her responsibility.

Ben bows his head.

“Senator Niima,” he greets. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

His room is already small for the Senate buildings, but it’s much bigger than what he’s used to. Rey takes seat on the edge of a nearby couch. She sinks comfortably into the cushions.

He hovers across her nervously.

“I wanted to thank you for saving me earlier,” she tells him. Her hands are folded on her lap. Rey looks up to meet his gaze. “If you weren’t there, I might be dead.”

Ben ducks his head.

“It was my duty,” he replies dully.

“I still wanted to thank you.” She pauses, her jaw tightening. “And I wanted to say that I don’t blame you for what you did this afternoon. I think you did what you had to do—what you thought you had to do. Please don’t think I’m upset with you.”

Ben’s eyes widen as he shyly meets hers.

“Oh,” he murmurs.

Rey leans forward as if she’s about to reach for something. However, she stops at the last moment and pulls back, leaning against the couch.

She clears his throat.

“I know I haven’t been very open to our arrangement,” she says. “But now I see the use for it. All I ask is that... if you launch an investigation, I want you notify me. Please, let me know everything.”

Ben nods, even if he’s not sure Luke will approve.

“Of course.”

“If anyone wants me dead,” she continues, her voice growing icy. “Then they better have the courage to at least face me head on.”

Ben can’t help but smile. He eventually takes a seat across hers, hunching over his knees carefully. He knows she’ll be fine.

“Do you have a plan to draw them out?” he asks.

Rey pats her hip. “Hm, no, not yet. But I have... a contingency plan, just in case.”

“I didn’t expect you to know how to wield a blaster.”

She smirks. “I’m from Jakku. You have to fight to survive. Although I do miss my old quarterstaff. Lady Gray said it was... uncouth. Too bulky.”

Ben snorts.

“I would love to see you bring a quarterstaff to the Senate Floor.”

Her grin is cheeky. “That would be absolute chaos.”

“The circus would become a gladiator’s arena.”

Rey shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. She eventually stands, and the tresses of her long skirt fall upon the floor. Ben stands as well, mirroring her posture.

“Such bitter words from a Master Jedi.”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m more broody than average.”

Rey laughs. “ _Right._ Well, I’ve taken enough of your time. Thank you for allowing me inside.”

Ben pauses. “Are you heading outside? I should accompany you, at least.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “I’ll just be inside the building. There’s no need, Master Jedi.”

Ben approaches swiftly, his mouth set into a harsh line. Rey crosses her arms over her chest when he stands close, but there’s a small hint of a smile on her lips. She looks almost amused even as he towers over her, the large bulk of his torso much more pronounced when they face each other.

“Two pirates just tried to assassinate you today,” Ben grumbles. “I shouldn’t have left you alone as long as I did. Please, at least let me walk you to your quarters.”

Rey tilts her head to the side, trying to match his glare.

“When I said that I saw the need for your company, I meant times when I’m _outside_.”

“It would be very easy to slip into the Senate building and kill you in an empty room.”

Rey huffs.

“If you refuse to let me walk by you, Senator, that’s fine.” Ben adds. “I might as well watch from afar as I’ve always done.”

Rey shakes her head, frowning.

“All right, all right. _Fine._ ” The frown turns into a grimace. “It’s weirder if you’re just watching me from a distance. I’ll let you walk with me to my office. Is that satisfactory, Master Solo?”

He nods. “It is.”

“Good.”

Rey doesn’t spare another word. She heads towards the doorway and Ben follows. He tries not to hover at her elbow, so he stands stiffly about a few feet away. Rey glances at him from over her shoulder as she exits the room. The edge of her mouth quirks upwards.

Is she internally making fun of him? Ben freezes.

“You can come closer,” she laughs.

Ben does. They step out of the room and into the empty corridor. Without his robes and without her heavy vests, there is little fabric between them. Rey’s arms are bare, and when she brushes his tight sleeves, he glances away.

She doesn’t move farther.

The walk is silent. They pass a lifeform only once: someone’s assistant ducks his head in greeting before scurrying away. Ben reaches out with the Force, trying to sense if any other creatures with ill intent are hiding nearby.

He finds none even when they’ve reached her office. The door hisses open in front of them, and Ben takes a cursory glance around the room before Rey steps inside. She pauses in the middle of the doorway.

“All clear?” she jokes.

Ben smiles, just a little.

“All clear, Your Majesty.”

“I’m nobody’s majesty,” she quips. “That’s you.”

Ben releases a strangled noise of complaint. Instead of waiting for him to say something more coherent, she speaks up again.

“By the way,” she says. She’s using her _Senator voice_ , the one that makes no room for disagreement. “There will be a public banquet next weekend. I think you’d better accompany me for security... just in case.”

Ben blinks. He opens his mouth to let out a small affirmation, but Rey steps inside before throwing him one last cheeky smile. The door slides shut between them, interrupting his speech. He stands still.

The hallway is silent and empty. Ben frowns at the floor, grumbling to himself.

It’s the first time he’d seen her without sleeves, he realizes. He can still remember the way a hint of freckles dotted her shoulders. They matched the light patterns on her cheeks.

He shuts his eyes tight, willing away the image. Ben turns back and returns to his quarters, cheeks burning with embarrassment at even being distracted by the memory.

He does not look forward to next weekend’s banquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy that some of you are curious about this fic! The Anidala parallels are not accidental ;)
> 
> (And yes, Ben was sulking in his room the whole time. Big baby)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update! I took a holiday break from this fic but when I went back to it... I completely forgot where the plot should go. That taught me to outline more often :---)
> 
> This chapter is a bit short but I'm hoping the next one will be longer. Thank you for sticking by <3

_Roughly One Standard Month Earlier_

He doesn’t offer his arm, and she doesn’t try to take it. Still, he stands solidly behind her, the hem of his robes brushing the tail of her dress. Rey greets everyone she passes with a polite nod, and Ben contents himself with keeping up his rigid posture and angry glare.

A Senator who bows to kiss Rey’s hand flinches upon meeting Ben’s gaze. He scatters away apologetically.

The ballroom is large and opulent, filled with gold decor and imported gemstones. A crystal pyramid glimmers in the distance, perched on top of the bar countertop. Five lifeforms crowd together on a platform as they play a big band jazz tune, their instruments shiny and chrome. Some guests are already clapping along to the rhythm.

Eventually, they reach the middle of the floor. Rey snickers.

“Technically, I’m supposed to be hiding in the shadows,” Ben reminds her.

“But you’re doing such a good job at keeping everyone else away!” she whines. “I should have hired you a long time ago. It’s much better than having to kiss a dozen other lifeforms _hello._ ”

“This is an abuse of my responsibilities,” Ben grumbles.

“Oh, come on.” Rey pats his arm gently. “Think of it as protection. From social niceties.”

“Social niceties are half of your job, Senator.”

“I know.” She rolls her eyes. “I hate these parties.”

Ben almost smiles.

“I _know._ ” And then, with an ounce of softness, he adds, “I hate them too.”

He expects her to banter. Maybe insult him a bit. That’s expected, isn’t it? Master Solo is always so sullen, so distant. She’d be more surprised if he _didn’t_ hate parties. That might mean the world is ending.

Instead, her fingers tighten over his arm. Her voice is hushed as they stand in place.

“Senator Organa,” Rey states. It isn’t a question. Ben nods his head in her direction.

“Yes.” His voice is clipped. “My mother used to drag me to these things all the time. It was her loss, though. I never knew how to make a good _impression._ ”

The words are hissed from his teeth. He doesn’t hate his mother—he never could, not even when she was too far away. But the ballroom reminds him of a time that he’d rather forget. He may have filled in now; he may be less awkward and gawky, but his nose is still too big, and he’s still too clumsy to dance, and he’s still too rough for social preening.

“You don’t have to make a good impression.” Rey’s words are whispered in his ear. Her breath tickles his neck. He has to lean down just to listen to her. “Not when you’re with me. I prefer you the way you are—grumpy and antisocial and all.”

And then she smiles, her eyes twinkling beneath the chandelier. Ben watches her, his lips parted. Rey slips away from his arm, and he tries to push down the disappointment that swells within him. He clenches his hands into fists, dropping them back at his sides.

Rey slides away, the trails of her white gown floating above the floor tiles. She seems sweet and innocent as she’s wrapped in the soft gauzy fabric of her gown. But Ben knows that it hides the fire within. She’s a Senator, a lioness in girl’s clothing. The skin of her back is exposed to air. It’s smooth and delicate, punctuated only by freckles and the visible lines of her spine.

Constellations upon constellations.

The way she _looks_ shouldn’t strike him as much as it does.

Everyone else is too absorbed with dancing or conversation. Wine flows freely, distributed by a service droid with eight rotating arms. Rey happily takes a plate of sandwiches from the droid’s tray. When she shoves the whole thing into her mouth, a passing Mirialan in an orange dress recoils in mild disgust.

Once the woman has passed, Rey snorts. She meets Ben’s gaze.

“See?” she counters after swallowing. “You’re not the only one who’s bad at these things.”

This time, he _does_ smile.

Surely, the point of this banquet is for Rey to mingle around with other public figures and politicians. It’s a game of subtleties, he knows. His mother wields words and touches like a blade. It starts with a jovial greeting, with a playful jab. And then there are threats and allies woven into subtext. Offending someone is enough to start a war.

But Rey doesn’t care for that. She doesn’t care for the intricacies of small talk and bartered exchange. _You scratch my back and I scratch yours?_ No, she’ll fight them all on the Senate floor, a holopad in her hand and fierce speeches from her lips.

Maybe, just maybe, that’s why he sticks around. Because she’s so _interesting._

“Senator Niima!”

A woman approaches with frightening speed. She still looks elegant, even as her hair is balanced precariously in a giant honeycomb atop her head. When she opens her arms wide for an embrace, her sleeves billow out like emerald butterfly wings. Rey grins and hugs her tight, still gripping the plate in one hand.

The woman kisses Rey’s cheek. She then looks the girl up and down, marveling at her dress.

“Didn’t I tell you that dress would fit _perfectly?_ ” The woman places her hands on both hips. “It looks beautiful on you, darling.”

“Thank you for the gift, Lady Gray,” is all that Rey says.

So this is the aforementioned Lady Gray.

The woman curls an arm around Rey’s back. As if only noticing Ben’s presence, she levels him with a curious stare. Ben glares back. Somehow, it feels as if she’s tugging Rey away from him.

“And who is your handsome date?” Lady Gray whispers conspiratorially into Rey’s ear. Rey chokes on her sandwich just as Ben clears his throat. Her voice is much louder than a whisper should be. “He doesn’t speak much, does he?”

“Master Ben Solo,” Rey introduces him. “The Jedi Knight assigned to protect me. This is Lady Gray, my sponsor. She’s helped me a lot—if it weren’t for her, I would be completely lost on Coruscant.”

Lady Gray smiles with all her brilliant teeth. Ben bows his head, opting not to speak. He’s not sure he’ll be able to say anything very nice.

“Oh, yes,” the woman tilts her head to the side. “The _Jedi._ ”

“He saved my life,” Rey adds. Her voice is small. “I’m very grateful.”

“So chivalry _isn’t_ dead,” the woman replies. She looks Ben up and down, and he sinks into himself at the strength of her stare. Somehow, he feels like she can see right through him. He’s dressed in a black three-piece suit tonight, meant to blend in with the crowd. Only the collar of his shirt evokes the Jedi robes. Even with his three layers of clothing, he feels fully exposed. “You’re Leia’s son, are you not?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m not sure who you take after more: your mother or your father. But it’s good to be a Jedi. Your mother retired at the right time. The current political climate is...” she waves her hand around vaguely. “You know. Well, Rey, darling, what are you doing just standing over here? I need to introduce you to...”

Rey meets his eyes over Lady Gray’s shoulder. The girl’s smile is strained, apologetic. The woman has a vice grip on her arm.

“...He’s descended from a long line of nobility,” Lady Gray is saying. “I’ve told him all about you. He’d be _so excited_...”

“I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. I’m not—”

“Nonsense, dear, he’s been waiting for you all night!”

“Fine. I’ll say _hello_ , but only if...”

Ben tunes out the rest of their conversation. The Force makes the hairs on his arms stand on end. He turns around, gaze sweeping across the room. Kitt, the other Jedi, should be scoping out the perimeter. But something inside here isn’t right.

A male Pantoran catches his eye. He’s dressed like a petty official, but he’s too fidgety. Too flighty. Upon catching Ben’s gaze, he immediately whips his head away.

Ben narrows his eyes.

“Excuse me,” Ben starts. He heads towards the Pantoran with swift steps, cutting through the crowd.

The Pantoran freezes as Ben’s shadow falls upon him. Instead of running away, he faces Ben with a curious smile.

“Yes?”

“Are you—”

“Oh, you’re Master Solo, aren’t you?” the Pantoran asks. He grins. “The Jedi. Well, I never thought I’d see a Jedi at one of these Senate parties.”

He reaches out a hand for Ben to shake.

“I’m Cardinal Biff,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

Ben scowls. He carefully reaches out his hand to shake and then—

He pulls it away as a blaster bolt misses his wrist. Another one fires into the distance, shattering a pyramid of cocktail glasses. A woman screams, and Ben huffs as the Pantoran runs off into the distance. He spares the rest of the room a look, only to find that nobody seems injured. The pyramid wall has cascaded and shattered, now littering the floor with glass shards.

He meets Rey’s eyes across the room. She’s on the ground, covering Lady Gray’s body with her own. The matriarch looks half-faint.

Ben releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Without a second thought, he bolts towards the balconies, reaching out with the Force to determine the Pantoran’s location. He can still see him in the distance; the blue of his skin glows under lamplight.

The Pantoran is already running across the flower fields. Ben leaps down from the balcony and tails him. He ignites his saber to deflect bolts as the assailant shoots.

Citizens slide out of the way as they continue their chase down the Coruscant streets. A few droids beep, sliding out of control as the Pantoran kicks them away. Ben leaps over them and then growls. The man disappears through the thicket of an approaching crowd.

There are too many lifeforms for him to be found through the Force. Ben scales a wall instead, keeping his eyes on the streets. He struggles to see anything in the mess of movement and limbs.

He sees something glint on the floor. Trampled beneath a hundred limbs are the remains of a fancy vest. Ben inhales sharply and turns his head.

_There._

A single figure rushes out of the crowd and darts into a secluded alleyway. Ben crosses the rooftop with wide strides and then jumps down, hoping to ambush him before he can disappear.

As soon as he lands, the Pantoran jumps. He fires several shots, all of which Ben deflects. When the Pantoran steps backwards, Ben flicks his wrist and sends the blaster flying several meters away.

The Pantoran’s eyes grow wide.

Ben strides forward, his lightsaber hot at his side.

“Were you hired to kill Senator Niima?” Ben barks. “Who hired you?”

The Pantoran doesn’t respond. Instead, when Ben steps too close, he elbows him in the gut. Ben hisses, caught off-guard, and the man runs away. Before he can escape, Ben grabs him by the hood of his cloak and slams him against the wall, leaning all his weight onto him.

Ben holds his saber dangerously close to the man’s throat. The Pantoran’s eyes are reflected with purple light.

“Answer me,” Ben commands. His grip on the man’s shirt tightens.

“Please,” the Pantoran chokes. “I just needed the money...”

“So it’s a bounty?” Ben tilts the lightsaber towards the Pantoran’s face. He almost goes cross-eyed just staring at it. “ _Who hired you?_ ”

“T-Terra,” the man chokes. “It was him.”

“Who’s Terra?”

The Pantoran’s face wrinkles. Ben presses his lightsaber an inch closer until the other lifeform is forced to turn his head. He stares desperately at the wall. His blue skin is now clouded by the lightsaber’s purple glow.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just heard he was offering an easy job.”

“Where did you hear that?”

The Pantoran wets his lips. “Just around. From people.”

Ben tilts his wrist, effectively crossing his saber across the man’s jugular. The Pantoran stiffens.

“I heard it from a guy in _Shootout._ That’s a cantina in Coronet City.”

Ben inhales sharply.

 _Corellia_.

 

 

“Terra is a local crime lord,” Luke says. He leans both hands on the holotable. A map of Coronet City is projected between them. “He specializes in trade: mainly slavery and spices, but he’s also been dipping his hand into the shipyard smuggling business recently.”

Ben watches, his arms crossed over his chest. Rey stands next to him, her expression stern. She’d insisted on joining them for this meeting, and he had obliged. No matter how much Luke had protested, she had fought her way through.

He respects her for that.

This isn’t his first security detail assignment—but it’s one of the few times that his mark has made such an effort to render him useless.

“Do you think he’s working alone?” Ben asks. “He seems too small-time of a mob boss to have the capacity to send three assassins our way. He might just be a middleman, or he might have been hired by another cartel.”

Luke frowns. “We can’t know for sure.”

“Then we’ll just have to investigate.”

Luke quirks a brow. “If the Pantoran recognized you, then you’ll need a better disguise. Go with Kitt—he’ll keep you in check.”

“Of course I’m going in disguise,” Ben grumbles. “I know how to infiltrate.”

The Pantoran now sits in a jail cell. Even after he’d spilled it all, he still proved to be useless. Ben can’t believe that some mob boss would even hire scum like him... unless the point wasn’t to kill the Senator at the party.

Maybe it was just another scare tactic. Maybe it was another effort to lure them out. Maybe it was a distraction from something bigger.

His mind is brewing with possibilities. He presses his lips together thoughtfully.

“I’m joining you,” Rey says, cutting right into the silence. She raises her head, confident as usual.

Both men look at her. Luke tilts his head to the side. Ben can already see the rejection in his eyes.

“I’m afraid not,” he says. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ve survived worse on Jakku. I know how to take care of myself,” Rey explains. “If someone wants to kill me, I’m facing them myself.”

“They’ll recognize you right away,” Luke continues. “They’ll kill you on sight.”

“Corellia is a nasty place,” Ben adds. He doesn’t mean to underestimate her, but it is true.

“I’ll wear a good disguise,” Rey bites back. “Master Solo is recognizable too, isn’t he?”

“It’s best to only have two people on this mission,” Luke replies.

“Then we’ll go together,” Ben finishes. He doesn’t know why he suggests it, why he goes along with her plan. But he thinks this isn’t too bad of an idea.

_Careful, Solo. Next time, start thinking with your brain._

“ _Ben.”_ Luke waves away the hologram. The blue light is replaced by a stiff white, and it casts more shadows upon his uncle’s aged face. “You’re supposed to be _protecting_ the Senator.”

“Do you always talk about me like I’m not in the room?” Rey cuts in. “Anyway, how can he _protect_ me if I’m halfway across the galaxy?”

“You’re safer on Coruscant than on Corellia—”

“Like Kriff I am,” Rey scoffs. She steps forward, bursting into Luke’s personal space. “If anything, I bet they’d take this as another chance to kill me. Get the bodyguard off-planet and ambush me when I least expect it.”

She pauses and then turns to meet Ben’s gaze. He shrugs, his eyes shining with a smile. Rey slowly returns it with a grin of her own.

“What do you think, Master Solo?” she asks.

He only looks at her, awed by the dim lighting on her mischievous expression.

“I think you’re right, Senator Niima.”

Luke groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving Ben a purple lightsaber. As you can see, his dark side tendencies are subtle but very much present.
> 
> [According to this site:](https://ultrasabers.com/holocron/what-is-the-meaning-of-the-purple-lightsaber/) The shading purple speaks to _moral uncertainty, reconstruction, and recovery._ Therefore, the individuals that used a purple lightsaber generally _shared an affinity with both the Light and Dark sides of the Force._ Additional attributes that are commonly seen in the wielders of purple lightsabers include that of _isolation, sympathy, and compassion._
> 
> Very fitting, ey?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is just one giant homage to The Clone Wars and EU-style shootouts. Whoops.

_Ground Zero_

Ben takes a step back after he’s applied the synthflesh on his cheek. He stares at himself hard in the mirror, raising a hand to feel the dark hair covering his chin. He’s large and distinct for a human male, and holo-disguises always fail when they’re most needed. Sometimes the simple route is the best.

A red scar bisects his face. When he furrows his brows, it looks just as angry as the bearded man glaring at the mirror. Even his hair has been tied into a small bun. He doesn’t even recognize himself.

Ben steps out of the fresher and glances around. Their shuttle is a tiny thing—a piece of junk, really. It shudders when another ship travels too close. The darkness of space stretches onwards outside of their viewports, and their coordinates are still firmly locked into place on the map. When he crosses the small hallway to the cockpit, he finds no sign of the Senator.

“Senator Niima?” he calls out.

“That’s Kira to you,” a muffled voice replies.

Ben turns around and comes face to face with a cloaked figure. Rey’s dressed in loose pants and an armored vest. He can barely see the bulge of her blaster hidden beneath her cape, but he knows it’s there. He can’t know it’s her; even her platform boots give her some added height, and her face is completely obscured by a gas mask and helmet.

But the way she moves, the way she holds herself, the way she feels when he reaches out with the Force—that’s her. It’s Rey.

Ben huffs, impressed by the transformation.

“And where did you get _that_?” he asks.

 _“I know a guy,”_ she replies in guttural Ubese. The helmet modulates her voice into something more masculine, into something harsher. _“Anyway, are you serious?_ That’s _your disguise?_ _You couldn’t have at least worn a mask or something?”_

“It would be too suspicious if _both_ of us were wearing helmets,” Ben counters. He pauses. “I didn’t know you spoke Ubese.”

 _“I speak six languages, including binary.”_ Somehow, he just knows she’s smiling. _“Jakku’s a colorful place, Master Solo.”_

“Call me Kylo.”

Her laugh resembles a cackle. “Okay, Kylo.”

“Come on.” He gestures for her to approach the cockpit. Corellia sparkles in the near distance—a giant sphere of blue and white. “Let’s catch him before he even realizes we’re here.”

She joins him in the co-pilot’s seat. Without another word, they activate the engines and fly forward. Corellia looms over them, only several more klicks away.

 

 

Coronet City is bustling with activity even when they land at dusk. The major spaceport is large and sprawling, every plot filled with all sorts of ships. Rey stumbles in wonder as they descend from their spacecraft, and for a moment Ben doesn’t have the heart to snap her out of her reverie and remind her of the mission.

When two unfamiliar lifeforms in flight suits pass them, the two creatures guffawing to each other, Rey finally meets his gaze and nods. In a flash, she transforms into someone else—someone with hunched shoulders, with a more predatory posture.

They head out of the spaceport, blending in perfectly with the crowd.

Shootout isn’t too difficult to find. A hundred cantinas are scattered all over the city, but this one is specially marked on their map. It’s on the other side of town, near the seedier end where toxic fumes from the factories billow up into the darkening sky. The lifeforms that loiter nearby are all harsher, tougher, their faces hard and their bodies scarred by labor or pain.

Rey doesn’t even falter. She rushes through them like she belongs there, muscling her way through a few uncooperative passers-by. Ben follows, hot on her heels, his face stern. Shootout is lively in the early evening, even as the paint on the walls has begun to chip from blasterfire.

It’s even more humid inside the cantina. Ben pushes through a dark curtain and finds that the bar is wide and sprawling. There are no booths upfront, only tables and chairs pressed so tightly together that maneuvering around them takes sober skill. A Twi’lek waitress crosses the room with graceful steps. She balances a tray in one hand and smacks a wandering customer’s arm with another. The customer’s friends laugh and point at him.

“So, where do we start?” Rey asks, whispering into his ear.

“Maybe the bartender would know. Is Kira good at making friends?”

“I don’t know. Is Kylo?”

They exchange glances and then stride forward.

The bar is located at the far end of the cantina, pushed up against the back wall. Most of the barstools remain empty, and Rey and Ben sidle up to the middle seats. The bartender is a big guy, a pink-skinned lifeform that pours drinks with four arms. He shakes a green concoction in a tall glass and then slides it down the counter, down to where a Trandoshan is waiting.

The reptilian lifeform takes the glass with a click of his tongue. When he leaves, his tail swishes in the air. Rey watches him go with mild interest.

Ben orders some Corellian whiskey. He exchanges a few measly credits, and then takes a single sip. Rey leans closer and tilts her head in warning. He meets her gaze—not through her mask, though he knows she can see him—and his lips thin out in reply.

_Trust me._

“We’re looking for a job,” Ben murmurs. The bartender has his back to them, but Ben knows he’s listening. “We heard Terra was looking for some muscle.”

The bartender grumbles and turns away. He reaches for a liquor bottle on the shelf behind him and then proceeds to pour a drink, several meters farther from where Ben and Rey sit. Ben scowls, miffed.

"Can't you use a Jedi mind trick on him?" Rey asks. She whispers it so close to his ears that they tingle with her modulated voice. Ben shivers, but he doesn't pull away.

"Some species are more Force-resistant than others," he explains. "Why don't you try?"

It's a challenge, a joke. He doesn't expect Rey to pause and stare at him serenely behind her mask. He just knows she's smiling.

 _"I'll be right back,"_ she growls. _"Stay put."_

Ben watches as she slides off the barstool and then simmers into the crowd. She blends into the landscape of hardened lifeforms, her helmet scratched up to give the illusion of a hard-won battle. Ben bristles when she finally approaches a group of drifters. She's significantly shorter and slimmer than all of them, and they glare her down as she catches their attention.

Ben stares at them intently as Rey converses with a few bounty hunters. He has a hand ready on his blaster, and the other one is curled into a fist—ready to tighten and fling someone away if they dare to even touch her. One of the bounty hunters grumbles back as Rey speaks in Ubese. He gargles and then snorts, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Rey nods and then turns away, striding confidently back to her barstool. The hunters spare her just a second-long glance and then they're back to drinking and conversing together. Ben raises a brow as she takes a seat.

"We'll need a special audience with Terra so he can know we're trustworthy," she explains. Rey gestures to Ben's other side with a flick of her wrist. When he turns his head, he sees a hidden doorway covered by a thick beaded curtain. The Twi'lek waitress enters it and disappears into the next room. Ben glances back at Rey. "He usually hangs in a private booth at the back. We can look for him, but there's no guarantee we'll be welcome."

"And you got all that from a conversation?"

Rey shrugs. "Bounty hunter scum are the same, regardless of what planet."

Ben shakes his head. He smiles ever so slightly, but the expression is hidden by his beard.

"We should buy him a drink," Rey adds. "As a welcoming gift."

"I know just the thing."

Ben flags down the bartender with an order for an entire bottle of Tsiraki. The bartender finally pays them attention again, but doesn't fetch the bottle until Ben slaps down the credits onto the counter. Rey leans forward at the price, almost gobsmacked, but soon enough the bottle is tucked safely under Ben's arm.

He nods to her.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Ready," she replies, voice unwavering.

They stand and head towards the entryway. Ben takes in a deep breath, straightens his shoulders, and then parts the curtains. They fall close behind them in a whoosh of motion, the beads all tinkling together.

This area is a lot quieter. The lights are dimmed, and the rowdy stench from outside is replaced by the faint smell of cigarettes and spice. Booths are lined up all in a row, and Ben and Rey pass them with slow steps.

In the first booth: a fat trader surrounded by a gaggle of female lifeforms. In the second: two masked men that glare at Rey and Ben as they pass. In the third: the scent of perfume so strong that Ben covers his nose. He doesn't look; he only hears the wet squelching noise of a dozen tentacles.

Rey shivers and presses against him even closer.

He can't feel her warmth beneath her armor. He can barely even discern the shape of her body. But he finds her wrist and squeezes it gently. Rey's shoulders relax, and she tilts her head up towards him.

He drops her hand.

_What are you doing, Solo?_

Voices spread out from the last booth. Ben and Rey creep towards it before finally standing in front of the group.

They're all seated in a semi-circle. Right in the middle is an orange Togruta, his arm slung over the Twi'lek waitress. Four other lifeforms sit with him, and their table is filled with empty plates and endless bottles.

The Togruta finally looks up to see them. He leans back lazily, his eyes narrowing at their intrusion. All conversation stops. Half of the occupants look at the intruders behind their hand of cards.

This is always the worst part, Ben thinks. Fighting, infiltrating, piloting, sure; all those he can do with a hand tied behind his back. But speaking smoothly? Being a charmer? He's not as charismatic, not a sweet talker like his father.

Even as he wavers on the inside, he doesn't let it show. Ben raises the bottle and notes how Terra's eyes are still trained on his.

"Greetings," he starts, and then inwardly winces at their blank faces. "We heard you had a job for a bounty hunter."

Terra tilts his head to the side. The Twi’lek waitress whispers something into his ear but he doesn’t reply. When she finishes, she eyes Ben with disdain.

"I'm Kylo," Ben starts, his voice gruff. He jerks his head towards Rey. "My companion here is Kira."

Terra pushes the Twi'lek waitress away. She stumbles forward, huffs, and then leaves. Nobody watches her go.

Rey cocks a hand on her hip. Ben can feel her glaring a hole into the side of his head.

"What did you bring me?" Terra asks. He squints at the label on the bottle. Ben hands it to him, his gloved fingers pulling away as soon as he releases the drink. Terra inspects the bottle with careful determination, spinning it around and inspecting the seal.

The booth is quiet. Terra pops the bottle open and sniffs it, urging his leftmost companion to take a sip. The man does—downs half a glass—and then coughs.

Terra laughs.

"Take a seat," he tells them, gesturing to the booth. Ben and Rey exchange glances before they slip into the couch, sitting side by side. Rey's shoulder presses up against Ben's arm, and he's glad for her weight. Her presence grounds him.

He can't fuck up now that he's got Rey with him. He can't get both of them killed.

This booth is sweltering. He can feel himself beginning to sweat beneath the collar.

Terra pours everyone a drink. His companions all take it with gratitude. He doesn't try it himself though. Instead he levels Ben with a harsh stare.

"So, Kylo." He slings an arm over the couch backrest. "Tell me about yourself. I know you're not from around here."

"No," Ben replies. "I'm from Dantooine."

Terra laughs. "That's the middle of nowhere."

"I know. That's why I left."

"And you?" Terra asks, turning to Rey.

 _"Uba IV,"_ she replies simply.

"I've never heard of a Kylo or a Kira before." Terra smiles, but it doesn’t reach his yellow-flecked eyes. "And I've been in this business for a long time."

 _"A true hunter doesn't leave a trace,"_ Rey rasps.

Terra grins. "That he does. So, how long have you two been working together?" He leans back against the couch. "Go on, I have time."

Ben scowls. This isn't going anywhere. He leans forward, about to retort. Instead, Rey lays a careful hand on his arm. The gesture isn't visible from above the table. Ben stiffens up, but she doesn’t pull away.

"Long enough to know that we get the job done," Ben seethes.

Terra ignores his temper. "Ubese don't usually work with other lifeforms. Either you've found yourself a social butterfly, or she's your girl." As Ben's eyes darken, Terra laughs. "Am I right? I'm right, aren't I?"

 _How dare he,_ Ben thinks. _How dare he assume—_

Rey isn't his girl. She never will be. She isn't anyone's, he thinks. She's her own. They're not here to be made fun of by some petty mob boss.

His cheeks are flushed pink. He can feel the heat on his face. He hates it. Kriff, he hates it.

 _"Are you looking for an assassin or not?"_ Rey slides in. Her mask amplifies her voice from its harsh whisper.

"Or not." Terra weaves a dramatic sigh. "The last one was pathetic. I'm raising my standards a little. Re-considering the application process."

Ben swallows. He straightens up, focusing on that bit of information. As the Rodian next to him cackles in his native language, the two other lifeforms sitting on the opposite end laugh in reply. The joke goes right over Ben’s head, but he doesn’t care. Not when Terra is shrugging with such theatric disappointment.

“How so?” he asks.

“I’m thinking...” Terra waves a hand in the air. He makes a lazy gesture, a flick of the wrist. “A test of courage. And strength. To prove that you’re worthy of the job.”

Ben raises a brow.

“The last guy I hired got arrested by a Jedi! Would you believe that?” Terra laughs then, loud and guffawing. “So I guess the Jedi are good for something—but only if the problem’s staring them right in the face!”

Ben is silent. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move. Rey’s hand tightens over his own. He presses the back of his gloved thumb against hers. He can’t feel her skin, not with two layers of leather between them. But he knows what she’s trying to do.

There’s no anger inside him. No simmering temper that threatens to boil and expose both of them.

There’s no need. But he revels in her warmth anyway.

 _“Who’s your target?”_ Rey asks.

“A certain public figure,” Terra replies. He winks at her. “You’ll find out if you’re right for the job.”

_“We’re not afraid of any Jedi.”_

“The one guarding my mark, his name is Ben Solo. That man isn’t an ordinary Jedi.”

“We’ll kill him for you,” Ben says, voice clipped. “Or capture him. Along with his charge.”

Terra laughs. “Maker, I love your confidence. I always liked you younger ones. You still think that you can do anything.”

Rey doesn’t reply.

“You know,” Terra sighs. “I’m a businessman at heart. I have my own rags to riches story. When I was a kid, I was sold off to an old mob boss—a nasty old man. I was starved half of the time, but I watched. I learned. That’s the thing about these guys; they don’t care about you. You’re just part of the furniture. So they underestimate you and hope you keep your head down long enough.”

_Maker, we got a chatty one._

“So I was young and I thought that I could do anything. See, I knew the ins and outs of my old boss’ trade like the back of my hand. I knew who his partners were. I oversaw his shipments. I managed his merchandise.” Terra coughs. “His living merchandise. And this man, he was getting older and more trusting. He was half-senile at that point.”

When Terra grins, he has too many teeth.

“So what do you think I did, huh?” He tilts his head to the side. “How do you think I built my own empire? Come on, guess!”

A beat passes between them. Their table is only interrupted by someone shuffling their cards.

Terra’s grin shines under the lamplight.

“You killed him,” Ben says flatly. “You killed him and everyone else that stood in your way. You took his business for your own and then expanded it planetside.”

Terra throws his head back in laughter. His voice is loud and booming, almost deafening as they sit so close.

“Right! Absolutely right!” He waves his hand again. His head tails twitch with the motion. “I like you, Kylo. You’ve got a head for business.”

Ben’s lips grow thin.

“You know, if there’s one thing I’ve learned,” Terra continues. “It’s that _everything_ is an opportunity. Sometimes things just fall into your lap. You just have to be patient and wait it out. You can’t trust anyone either. That’s when it all goes to hell.”

He smiles then, his eyes glinting with mischief. When he meets Ben’s eyes, Ben feels as if he’s staring right through him.

“Let me teach you a lesson, boy.” Terra nods once. “Attachments are a weakness.”

And then he draws a blaster and points it straight at Rey. On instinct, Ben moves, pointing his own blaster at the Togruta. He grits his teeth. Rey doesn’t flinch, doesn’t do anything except carefully train her own weapon on the mob boss.

Only when Ben glances around, he sees that their other companions have also drawn their blasters. He counts five separate barrels aimed at his and Rey’s end.

If all else fails...

“Why are you telling me this?” Ben asks.

“Because it’s me being honest with you.” Terra’s finger is steady on the trigger. “So I want you to be honest with me in return.”

“What do you want?”

Terra’s eyes are sickly ochre. They pierce Ben’s gaze.

“I want to know why a Jedi has walked in here pretending to be a bounty hunter.”

_Kriff._

“I’m not a Jedi!” Ben exclaims. But it’s too late. Terra fires.

Rey grunts as the plasma bolt ricochets off her armor. She dives to the side, avoiding another blow. Ben growls and shoots the Rodian next to him. The guy goes down without a beat. Ben ducks before he can shoot again, wincing as the blasterfire buries holes into the couch’s backrest.

They’re still outnumbered three to two. Rey fires several shots but turns away into the corridor as Terra’s men retaliate. The other booths erupt into a flurry, the occupants shouting and running into the distance. Ben is still crouched beneath the table. When one opponent tries to fire at him, he pushes the plasma bolt with the Force and shifts its trajectory. It explodes with a bang.

Before Terra can grab him, Ben roars and flips the table with help from the Force.

Terra and his men topple away, unwilling to be crushed.

“Kira!” Ben barks. He slips away from the blasterfire-riddled booth and then finds Rey amidst the commotion. She limps, and he feels the anger flare up inside of him, refreshed and renewed. Three dark spots have stained her armor. She smells like plasma.

“We have to go,” she breathes. And then she grabs his arm. “Ben!”

Ben turns his head. He sees a wall of red light even before he hears the ensuing blasterfire. The rest of the room disappears from view. He shoves her aside, raises his hand, and roars.

His eyes burn with the light.

Rey’s hand is fisted in his shirt. She grips him so tightly that her fingers are trembling. He wants to soothe her, wants to tell her that it’s all right, wants to apologize for being so careless—

The fact that she’s holding onto him must mean she’s safe. At first he thinks that it’s all right, that he’s protected her. But then the surge of relief is replaced by the sharp pain that shoots up his torso. The world goes from red and white to empty and black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I KEEP FORGETTING TO ADD THESE REFERENCES I AM SORRY
> 
> [Ubese:](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ubese) The species of the bounty hunter that Leia disguised herself as in ROTJ  
> [Togruta:](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Togruta) aka Ahsoka Tano's species  
> [Rodian:](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Rodian) aka Greedo (didn't shoot first?)  
> [Tsiraki](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tsiraki): "described... as sour and sweet, totally terrible and also totally amazing."


End file.
